


Alexander (And Alexa, Too)

by PNGuin



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Author is completely incapable of writing fluff without angst, Boys In Love, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Good Boyfriend Alec Lightwood, M/M, Magnus has no magic, Post-Episode: s03e10 Erchomai, but he does have his Alexander, does Alexa count as a character?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 07:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17178782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PNGuin/pseuds/PNGuin
Summary: Magnus is struggling without his magic. Alec just wants to help, so he gets Magnus a special Christmas present.





	Alexander (And Alexa, Too)

**Author's Note:**

> This is set post episode 3.10, but Clary did not go missing (bc I don't feel like dealing with that whole mess rn). If you have read my other Shadowhunters works, this does not exist in my main series (hence it being left out of the series grouping).

If you ask Magnus, the Christmas party is an utter disaster.

The decorations are the best he could possibly find on such short notice and are lackluster compared to the wonderland he can – _could_ – conjure at the snap of his fingers. The tinsel is unevenly distributed, the ornaments are not arranged in the most tasteful way, the tree is leaning ever so slightly to the left. He had stayed up most of the night wrapping his presents, and the bows are lopsided, the paper is wrinkled; the gifts themselves are all cheap excuses he had purchased from downtown, not the collection of interesting artifacts he could have gathered from around the world or the homemade charms and protections he _used_ to be renowned for making. The roast had been left in the oven for too long and the meat is dry, the mashed potatoes are soggy, the cookies are burnt at the edges.

It’s all an absolute disaster and Magnus is entirely to blame for it.

(If you ask any of the others lounging around the apartment, half-asleep from being stuffed with good food and content from all the presents they received, the Christmas party is an utter success.)

Magnus doesn’t ask them. He stays on his feet, always checking if anyone needs a refill, if they need any help with anything, if they need an Uber ride to get back to their respective homes. He stays busy right up until the point where everyone is slowly filing out, leaving just him and Alexander in his festively cluttered apartment. And, even then, Magnus immediately sets to work with the cleaning. The leftover food has to be manually packed away before it spoils, the scattered trash has to be thrown out, the furniture has to be moved back into its rightful place. There’s so much to do, and Magnus has to do all of it the _mundane way_ now.

But he doesn’t have to do it all _alone_. Alec washes the dishes and Magnus dries, Alec lifts the left side of the couch and Magnus gets the right, Alec braves the cold chill outside to deposit their garbage bags out on the curb while Magnus finishes sweeping the floors.

It’s a reassuring reminder that he and Alec are partners, that whatever they’re going through, they do so together. But Magnus can’t help the guilt that settles heavy as lead in his chest. In all his anxious panic for the party, he’s forgotten that Alec is right beside him, that Alec is the one suffering for Magnus’ own failings. When Magnus had made his last-minute midnight run to the store for decorations, Alec had shouldered through the mundane crowds to grab what they needed. When Magnus had stayed up all night wrapping, Alec had stayed up with him, making peppermint hot chocolate spiced with some Kahlúa to keep them both going. When Magnus had been flitting about the kitchen in barely concealed panic, Alec had been a step ahead of everything, glazing the ham and tossing the salad and kneading the dough for the rolls.

Magnus looks at him now, hands soapy from the dishwater and shoulders slumped from exhaustion, and his heart hurts from how much he loves the shadowhunter. But his heart also hurts from how much Magnus has been failing that love. He knows – _gods_ , does he know – how stressed Alec has been the past few weeks. Between healing from his own almost fatal injury, and the fallout of the Lilith situation, not to mention dealing with the Clave’s overbearing authority, and the constant needs of the Downworld Cabinet. And Magnus knows that his own circumstances have hardly made anything easier on Alec.

He can see it in the dark bags under his eyes, in the steep slope of his shoulders, in the tension that knots the muscles in his back. Magnus used to be able to smooth away those concerns with a single wave of his hands. Now, he can no longer do anything, and there’s so much to still do and for the first time in Magnus’ life he doesn’t have all eternity to accomplish those things. He needs to keep moving, to keep going, to stay occupied. It’s the only way to beat his demons back.

But before he can scramble away to work on some unimportant, time-consuming task, Alec reaches out and grabs his arm, gentle enough that Magnus can pull away, but firm enough that Magnus knows Alec doesn’t want him to. When Alec begins tugging closer, Magnus falls into it willingly, until he’s leaning against the solid warmth of Alec’s chest, wrapped up in those deliciously muscled arms. He’s felt cold ever since his magic was ripped away, but here, in Alec’s embrace, he begins to feel warm again.

“Hey, slow down, babe,” the shadowhunter murmurs, running his hands up Magnus’ arms and across his back. “We can finish cleaning tomorrow.”

Magnus nods and can’t help the wry little chuckle that slips out. Their roles have reversed; it seems like just the other day Alec was the one insisting they clean everything immediately. “Right,” he draws in a deep breath, “right, yeah, slowing down.”

Alec grins, all soft and boyish. Magnus could melt under the look, and he practically does as he folds himself further into Alec’s arms and relaxes against his chest. “I have another present for you,” Alec says, his voice rumbling pleasantly against Magnus’ ear.

Magnus pulls back, just enough to look Alec in the eye, and mock glares at him. “I thought we agreed only one present each,” he counters, raising a single eyebrow.

Alec, to his credit, does look properly chastised and more than a little bashful. “We did,” he confesses, “but I found out about this and- well, to be honest, you could either love it or hate it, and I didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone else.”

A salacious grin curls at Magnus’ lips and he doesn’t even try to stop the suggestive waggle of his brows. “Is it a sexy gift? If it is, I’m sure I’ll love it,” he purrs.

His ever-tolerant boyfriend lets out a quiet chuckle, but shakes his head. “No, not that kind of gift. It’s for- it can- let me just show you,” he rambles, before ducking out of Magnus’ hold and disappearing into their bedroom. He returns shortly, his hands held behind his back and a brilliant red blush settling over his cheeks.

Once he reaches Magnus, Alec holds out the gift for him to take. Magnus obligingly picks it up; it isn’t wrapped, and it looks to be some of short black cylinder with several buttons on it. “It’s a technologically advanced hockey puck,” Magnus determines jokingly, receiving an exasperated huff from his boyfriend.

“No, it’s this device that can, um, it can help out,” Alec explains, all deliberately vague as he shifts on the balls of his feet.

Magnus is immediately intrigued and worried, all at once. An anxious Alexander does not make for a happy Magnus. “Help _how_ , darling?” he urges, trying to strike the perfect balance between his own innate impatience and his yearning to soothe Alec’s concerns.

Alec chews on his bottom lip before he takes a fortifying breath. “Alexa,” he says, directed not at Magnus but rather at the small device in his hand, “dim the lights in the family room to 40%.”

Magnus very nearly drops the device when it repeats the order in a feminine robotic tone and the lights subsequently dim. “What?” he blurts, as eloquent as always.

“Alexa, turn on the Christmas playlist,” Alec orders, and the gentle tones of Bing Crosby spring up from the speakers on the other side of the room.

Before Magnus can gather his wits to say anything, Alec carefully takes the device out of Magnus’ hand and places it on the table beside him. And then, Alec so very tenderly wraps his arms around Magnus’ waist and draws him in until they are pressed together. Magnus automatically brings his arms up around Alec’s neck, and makes a small sound of surprise when Alec begins swaying them back and forth. It isn’t quite dancing, but between the soft lighting and the gentle music it fills Magnus’ heart to the brim.

“I know-” Alec begins, faltering and hesitant; Magnus resolves to be patient and let him get the words out. “I understand that you’ve been struggling ever since you lost your magic.”

Magnus isn’t even surprised by the bluntness of the words. He is intimately aware that Alec prefers to go right for the heart of a conversation. It still makes Magnus stumble, however, and Alec’s arms tighten in silent apology.

“We’re going to get it back. I’ll do whatever it takes to get it back for you, Magnus,” his darling continues, and Magnus’ is pinned down by the fervent earnestness in his gaze. He doesn’t doubt Alec for a second; sometimes, it scares him to think of how far Alec would go for him. “But until then, this can help, even if it’s just a little bit. It can turn the lights off without you having to get out of bed, and it can order groceries for you without you needing to worry about going to the store, and it can set timers and reminders so that you don’t forget anything.”

Not for the first time, Magnus is hit by just how much he adores the man in his arms, by how profound the _love_ he has for him is. It’s like nothing Magnus has ever experienced, not even in his centuries of life. He can’t help but think that, had this situation occurred at any other period of his life, no one else would have stuck around, would have supported him. Not like Alec has, every step of the way.

His eyes burn with tears and he spares a fleeting thought that his makeup might run now that he doesn’t have magic to fix it. But he buries the thought by losing himself in the depths of Alexander’s beautiful hazel eyes, by drowning in the soft press of Alexander’s dry lips against his own, by melting into the strength of Alexander’s arms holding him up.

“I love you,” he whispers against Alec’s lips, in that minimal space that exists between them.

He feels more than sees the answering grin; he knows without looking that its soft and boyish and something that is entirely _his_ and _his alone_ to cherish. “I love you, too,” Alec murmurs back. Magnus feels all of that love rush through his veins and into his heart, expanding enough that it almost – _almost_ – fills up the void left by his missing magic.

“It’s been a long day,” Magnus sighs, letting his forehead drop onto Alec’s shoulder. The sentence feels like an understatement, given how hectic the last few _months_ have been. “Let’s go to bed.”

Beside him, Alec hums out a quiet agreement, and turns them in the direction of the bedroom. Just as they reach the threshold, Alec moves his arm to turn off the family room lights. Magnus rests his hand on the shadowhunter’s arm before he can do so. “Alexa, turn off the lights.”

The lights wink out on his command, and Magnus can’t hide the stupid little grin that curls at his lips. In the muted light of the city lights filtering in through the windows, he can just barely make out Alec’s matching grin, and Magnus leans in for another kiss. They continue on with their nightly routine, every so often stopping for kisses or to simply smile at one another, and Magnus feels a completeness within himself that has been missing for weeks. As they finally curl up under the sheets, Magnus’ head pillowed right over Alec’s heart and the shadowhunter’s arms tight around him, he lets himself reflect over all that he has survived through.

Magnus has lost a lot the past year: Ragnor, the position of High Warlock, his magic and immortality. And it _hurts_. It will probably _always_ hurt. But, Magnus reminds himself, in that same span of time he has gained more than he ever believed possible: love and family and _Alexander_. And now even Alexa, too.

**Author's Note:**

> One of my step-brothers got me the Amazon Echo Dot thingy for Christmas and, of course, being the little dork that I am, this was the first thing that popped into my head.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed it, and have a wonderful holiday season! Or just winter season, if you don't celebrate :)
> 
> ~PNGuin


End file.
